


Seven Sunrises in Sho-Yuel

by Oceanbourne



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 19:33:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9138823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oceanbourne/pseuds/Oceanbourne
Summary: As the Noxian invasion becomes more and more of a reality, two girls realize that their dream of becoming defenders of Ionia isn't as simple as they thought it would be.





	

Ninety-nine… Weary hands search for the strength to raise the sword again, Irelia’s muscles straining as if pushing against the force of a mountain. Somehow, she manages to raise her arms to chest level, staring down the hickory post that serves as her pretend opponent with tired enmity and eyelids that drip of sweat and tears.

The strike is lazy and languid, devoid of any grace as it comes down upon the horizontal bar with a dull thunk, the impact of the blade pulsing through her hands. It crashes into the dew-strewn grass, and Irelia pants, forcing herself to keep an upright posture as she catches her breath.

Come on! Almost there. One hundred… She digs deep, pushing past physical reserves of strength to the emotions hidden under numbed layers of the defense she has built for herself. Irelia finds fury, restlessness, a desire for recognition. She pours all those emotions into a thought that aims to inspire her depleted energies, glancing down the hilt of the sword her father had entrusted to her and clasping hard with two hands.

Irelia raises her head up to target the hickory post again, but her eyes catch sight of a break in the murky landscape in the fields around the Duchess’ courtyard. Movement appears in the blurry shapes that march on the grey horizon. She leans forward, squinting in order to see if she can make out any details. It’s a large caravan - much larger than any visitors Karma might have called or any merchant groups traveling through the outer edges of the Placidium. At the head of the formation, Irelia finds a banner waving in the wind, its pale green shape bearing an insignia with features not visible at this distance, but any Ionian would recognize that symbol.

The sword drops at her feet, the strength she had built up abandoned. The crest of Ionia! Irelia rushes to the perimeter, standing on her toes to look over the fence and to get a clearer view for herself. The shapes remain indistinct, but the caravan boasts a great multitude. A line of carriages marches down the dirt roads in two columns, each vehicle packed to the brim with bags of possessions. It doesn’t seem like the army, so Irelia racks her mind for other possibilities. The first one that comes brings a hopeful smile onto Irelia’s features, her heart soaring with anticipation.

Has Zelos returned? Sprinting towards the back entrance of the house, sandals wildly clapping at her feet, Irelia opens the screen door and looks for the Duchess.

Oh. Irelia submerges herself up to her neck in the stone basin, already feeling the hot water beginning to cool. Wiping the sweat and grime accumulated from her morning practice, she reaches for a soapstone, scrubbing arms and legs that soak in the scented bath. Laying her head back to stare at the shadow of the candelabrum on the ceiling, Irelia sighs, turning herself over in the water to further surrender herself to its tranquility. Perhaps it will soothe the troubled storm that has reappeared in her head.

Of course it wasn’t Zelos’ squadron. Karma had informed her that a group of wealthy scholars had evacuated their Anatholan homes after reports that spotted the Noxian army trudging their way through the forests and sifting through the mountain passes. The resistance had reached the chokepoints before and established their fortifications, but no one had wanted to continue residence near such a dangerous war zone.

A knock on the wooden partition that separated the basin from the rest of the bathroom facilities pulls Irelia from her thoughts. “Irelia?”

A quiet splash of water as she sits up, lifting a stone tile to allow the drainage to take away the bathwater. “Yes?”

“The majority of the refugees have already left, but I am to hold lunch with Captain Parquin about the future of the army and the state of the war. I know you have expressed interest in joining the resistance, so I would like you to join us when you have finished your bath.”

“Of course, Lady Karma!” Irelia calls out, rising from the basin and collecting the satin bathrobe hanging from an iron hook. “I’ll be right there!”

“There is no need to rush, Irelia,” comes the Duchess’ voice, a trace of melodic amusement in her tone. “I should add - there is a young girl in the captain’s retinue that expressed interest in meeting you.”

Irelia double-checks her hair in a hallway mirror, a comb in her hand lost between directing the unruly strands one way or another. The few times Karma had helped her let down her hair only occurred during the Lunar Revel festivals, which required hours of preparation beforehand. With a disgruntled sigh, she reaches into her pants pocket for a hairtie and affixes the black strands into a ponytail. What it lacks in elegance it compensates in convenience, completing the tomboyish look that her dark blue shirt and beige trousers compose. Placing her feet into a new pair of sandals, she descends down the staircase, approaching the dining room where she can hear voices in quiet discussion with each other.

Why would the daughter of a scribe seek me out? Irelia wonders as she rounds the corner, enticed by the scent of sautéed fish and onions laid out on the table. Not many would know that the daughter of Master Lito had taken residence with the Duchess, and even if one inquired after the master’s children, they would surely take more interest in her brother. Zelos had shown great aptitude upon joining the military, while Irelia had not even completed her travels learning the sword from various samurai masters all over the country.

Maybe she’s only looking for a friend, Irelia decides. If the scribes are staying over for a few days, it’s only natural to want company. I can’t imagine what boredom she had to face during the travels from the mountains to the capital.

“Irelia?” a feminine voice asks, and Irelia’s eyes widen at identifying the speaker. That sort of white hair, snowy locks which fell along either side of her face in resplendent cascades, could only belong to one person.

“Syndra!” she exclaims, eyes glimmering and mouth stuck in a dumbfounded smile. She wants to reach out across the table, take her old friend in her arms, but a look towards the captain and Karma indicates that their reunion threatens to disrupt an important discussion. So Irelia clasps her hands behind her back, her delight fading into a sheepish smile.

“As I was saying,” Captain Parquin clears his throat, “The evacuation procedures have gone smoothly. We are expected to finish before the end of the month, but there remains the issue of finding room for the influx of migrants. In particular,” he leans towards the Duchess, voice lowered. (It does nothing - both Irelia and Syndra can hear him.) “There lies the problem of the prodigy. The mages placed as her caretakers have joined the army to defend against the invasion. That is why we came to you, knowing your expertise in magic. And,” he nods to Irelia, “it seems you already have experience with a young vassal of our own.”

Karma nods, composure as serene as a northern lake in autumn. Irelia hasn’t heard of what became of Syndra since the Council had ordered her taken away from their village several years ago for dangerous reserves of unrestrained magic, but the only news her father had spared her did not signify a bright future for the young girl. She can read the concern in Parquin’s words, how his eyes had darkened simply speaking of Syndra, how he had elected to sit as far away from her as possible.

It marvels Irelia how someone can appear so radiant, and yet threaten to swallow the sun. What kind of circumstances has Syndra incurred on herself?

“You need not worry, Captain,” Karma assures him. “The girl will find a safe home here, just as Irelia did before her. But enough talk of war and omens!” She gestures to the fish laid out on the table. “It is of little use to seek for solutions to problems on empty stomachs.”


End file.
